Even Doctors Need A Doctor Sometime
by Spockette
Summary: Even The Doctor gets ill. It's up to Martha to help him out. Set after Daleks Take Manhattan and Evolution of the Daleks
1. Chapter 1

Even though Doctor Who was and is a big part of my life, Doctor Who is not mine. It is the sole property of BBC. Story for entertainment only.

**EVEN DOCTORS NEED A DOCTOR SOMETIME**

As the Doctor closed the doors to the TARDIS, readying himself for the next adventure with Martha, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. 'Must be the letdown of the adrenaline', he thought. Turning, he strolled down the ramp toward the console and threw his duster over the support beam.

"So Martha Jones, where next?" He fiddled with a few knobs.

She smiled at him, "Wherever the road leads us Dr. Smith."

"Right!" fiddle, turn, flip. "Here we go."

Martha wondered how the Doctor kept going. He was always on the move, like the ultimate sugar junkie, without the sugar of course. The TARDIS gave its usual jolt as the rotor began to move. She looked at the Doctor again. He was leaning heavily on the console, a funny look on his face. Her smile quickly faded.

"Doctor, what's wrong?", she approached his side.

He straightened up, taking in a deep breath, "Nothing, why?"

"It's just you look, well kinda tired."

"Oh, I'm just fine." He jumped up and down in place a few times. "See!" He grinned that maniac grin at her.

Martha nodded. "You'd tell me if you weren't."

He stopped jumping. "Mmm-hmm." Still smiling. Maybe it was just her imagination.

"I'm going to go shower and change. I smell like pig slave. You be allright?"

He looked at her, "Why wouldn't I be? I'm always allright." Another smile.

She left the control room. Finding the proper shower room was always a challenge. The TARDIS had so many rooms. All the doors looked the same. The Doctor had shown her around on their first trip out.

The kitchen equipment looked stainless steel, right off from the control room. Next was the Medical Quarters with several beds, strange looking equipment and some equipment Martha recognized, fully stocked cabinets with medicines from all over the galaxy, an extensive library covering tons of species. Next to medical was a laboratory, fully stocked with anything and everything a science lab should have. Several bedrooms each with their own private bath. She found her room, a few doors down from the Doctor's. A good hot shower was just what she needed.


	2. Taking Care of Business

Chapter 2: Taking care of business

Martha emerged from the shower feeling new. She changed into a fresh pair of jeans and light blue tee. Checking herself in the mirror, she adjusted her hair and dabbed a few drops of makeup on her face. Satisfied the way she looked, she turned and left for the console room where she left the Doctor.

It seemed he never stopped tinkering with the TARDIS controls, always obsessing about adjustments and coordinates. She smiled at the thought of finding him at the helm, looking snarky in his blue suit, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. She felt a hot blush to her cheeks and pushed the thought aside.

She entered the control room but the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

"Doctor?" she called from the entryway.

Slowly she walked around the console, studying its various knobs and buttons, careful not to touch anything. Then she saw them, his red trainers just to the side of the console. He was lying under the bloody console again. He never takes a break.

"Still working, eh?" she rounded the corner of the console. Something wasn't quite right. The Doctor was too too quiet.

"Doctor?"

He was deathly still. She thought he may be sleeping for a moment until she spotted the blood track leaving his right temple.

"Doctor!" Martha knelt beside him and called his name several times. No response. She examined the area where he laid, no sign of structural damage, or bare wires that may have shocked him. She further loosened his tie and unbuttoned his jacket. He was breathing slightly and she felt his neck for a pulse. Not the strong beat she had felt before. She looked at him, "What now?"

She was worried. A man with alien physiology, was the treatment for him the same as any one else. Correction, anyone else human.

She examined the wound on his head. It looked as if he had fallen, banging his head on the corner of the console as he fell. That was probably why he was unconscious. She would just have to control the bleeding to his head wound and monitor him to make sure he was breathing okay. She pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket to quench the bleeding from his scalp. Checking the gash she noted that it wasn't bleeding heavily but extended almost to his eyebrow. The area around the cut and above his eye was beginning to swell. He would have a good shiner if nothing else.

She needed some ice for him and ran to the kitchen to fetch some in a cloth. Returning she gently placed it on his head. He groaned and moved his head away from her.

"Doctor? Can you hear me?"

A grimace crossed his face and another pained groan escaped his pale lips. "Martha?"

His voice was rough and strained. He hadn't opened his eyes yet.

"I'm here."

His dark eyes peeked at her under heavy lids.

"There you are. You're really careless, you know." Martha sighed a breath of relief that he was going to be all right.

His eyes wandered the room and he raised his hand to his head.

"Oooh! What happened? Why am I lying in the floor?"

He tried to get up but found he couldn't muster up the strength. The pain in his head caused his thoughts to hurt. He whimpered.

"Easy. You've hit your head, it's gonna hurt."

He looked around as if he had never seen the control room. "Something else is wrong." he plainly stated.

"What?"

"Sick, gonna be…"

She helped him roll to his side. She watched as he heaved, vomiting everything he had earlier eaten, which thankfully wasn't much. She placed the ice on the back of his neck. When he finished heaving, he lay there on his side with his head on his arm taking deep breaths.

"Ugh! I hate being sick. I never get sick. I must not get sick. Can't be sick.", he muttered, his eyes screwed tight.

"Sit tight Doctor, I'm going to get you to medical. I'm gonna take care of you."


	3. Troubles with Transportation

Thanks for all the reviews and encouragement, keep them coming. Sorry I took so long with this chapter, I've been out of town for a few days.

Chapter 3: Troubles with Transportation

Martha ran down the corridor to the Medical Suite. There had to be a stretcher or a wheelchair there somewhere. She searched the room but no sign of a stretcher anywhere. She found a wheelchair but she doubted he would be able to sit in it without falling out. He didn't need to fall again. But what was the cause of his fall? It seemed he simply passed out. Head injury might cause the vomiting. Martha ran through diagnoses in her head. She supposed she could drag him down the corridor. Then she spied it, a strange levitating table in the far corner of the room. Placing a hand on it she hoped it wasn't bolted to the wall. She tugged at the corner and it followed her.

"Wow! Stretchers have come a long way where he comes from." She said to herself while she whisked away the floating stretcher to the Doctor's side.

To her dismay, he was struggling to rise to his feet, grasping the console's side.

"Here, Doctor. Sit here." She placed the stretcher directly behind him, good thing too because he was about to tumble over any second.

Evaluation time. Martha stood in front of him and observed him a second. He was clearly having some problems catching his breath and he was bent over clutching at his chest.

"Doctor, what is it? What's wrong? Are you hurting somewhere? Tell me!"

He looked up at her, cold sweat shimmering on his pale brow. He gritted his teeth.

"Something's…….wrong." She noticed the blue tinge to his lips. She had to get him to Medical. Quick.

She cradled the back of his neck while pushing him down to the table. "Lie down." He tried to resist, shaking his head. She gave him her best authoritive tone, like the one you would give a misbehaving child. "Lie down, now!" He opened his mouth as if to say something but she already had his feet up on the stretcher. "Stay put."

She rushed him down the corridor.


	4. Help!

Thanks for the Reviews! 42 was the Bomb! Go Martha!

Chapter 4: Help!

Racing toward the Medical Suite, Martha threatened to spill the Doctor from the stretcher around every corner of the corridor. The Doctor was groaning, clutching his chest and gasping for breath as she navigated the journey. He didn't look good to Martha, pale and sweaty. The blue tinge was still on his lips and she hurriedly rounded the doorway to Medical.

She had to evaluate the situation.

"Ok, sick time lord, 900 plus years old. What next?" she mumbled as she tried to keep him from rolling off of the stretcher. Treat him just like one of your patients, her mind screamed at her. She managed to lay him back and take his shoulders. She gazed intently into the Doctor's face which was screwed up in pain.

"Doctor, I need to know what's hurting so I can help you. Is it your chest?"

He returned her gaze painfully and nodded, swallowing hard. He reached out and grasped her upper arm, pulling her closer.

"Oxygen reserves depleted. Aaah! My chest is on fire! Argh! My head!" The grip tightened on Martha's arm. "Help me, Martha. AAaAhaaargh!" His eyes closed tightly again and he was breathing short and quick.

"Easy, Doctor. Stay calm and just breathe!" She smoothed the damp hair from his face. If his oxygen stores were depleted and he was having problems breathing, he needed supplemental oxygen. He once told her about his oxygen reserves after she asked him how he recovered so quickly after being attacked by the hemivore and stopped breathing, not to mention they didn't have any air left in the sphere protecting them.

Looking around as she pulled the stretcher over to the examination bed, she spied the oxygen attachment on the wall. With one hand restraining the struggling Doctor on the stretcher, she turned on the oxygen tap and plugged in the clear mask hanging there. He resisted as the placed it on his face, pushing her away with flailing hands and a shaking head.

"Stop! Let me help you. This will help you breathe." She pleaded with him as he pulled it free with a gasp. She firmly took his face in her hands, forcing his head still. He cracked open his eyes to peer at her. Her heart broke into thinking he was sick, he was such a strong willed man and never easily admitted any weakness. She knew his type, she'd seen it before in the clinics.

"Do you trust me?" she demanded.

He stilled somewhat, still looking at her. Pain and fear reflected in his deep brown eyes. She said it again.

"Do you trust me?"

He nodded slowly and gulped in a sob.

"Then let me help you." She gently placed the mask back over his nose and mouth, adjusting the strap behind his head to keep it secure.

She needed to get him over into the exam bed to get a clear scan of his body. She knew there was a built in scanner over the bed, along with other features she wasn't too familiar with. She just hoped the readout was in English, most of the readouts in the TARDIS were in Gallifreyan, along with the medical journals in the bookshelves.

"I'm gonna move you to the bed, you'll be more comfortable, okay?" Martha was nervous about moving him, tasking his oxygen stores even more. She didn't know if he heard her or even understood her at this point. Tilting the stretcher from one side, the Doctor slid over into the bed as easy as an omlette sliding out of the pan.

After pushing the stretcher aside, Martha eased the Doctor into a more comfortable position and raised the side rails to keep him from falling out of the bed. She moved the head of the bed up so he was semi-reclined. His arm reached out and he grunted.

"Martha….Martha."

She leaned over him and took his outstretched hand. His eyes were still tightly closed.

"TARDIS…..medical…….heart failing………..mmph."

"Doctor, sssh just relax. I've got you."

He shook his head. "No…….listen………TARDIS……….will……TARDIS will…." He struggled with the thought, brows knitted close together. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and pulled her in again. "TARDIS will help you."

Then he went completely limp.


	5. Trouble with Translation

Chapter 5: Trouble with Translations

Now Martha was really worried. Not only was the Doctor sick, he was unconscious which might actually be for the best anyway.

She heard a frantic beeping noise from the readout over the head of his bed. Her worst fear was coming true; she didn't understand the readout symbols. "Oh Doctor, what do I do? What's wrong with you?" She sighed heavily and studied the readouts, not expecting the wispy blue tendrils of smoke-like energy to be released from the monitor.

"What?"

The tendrils wrapped around her head, entering her nose and mouth, warmly spreading to her brain, gently caressing and calming her. Suddenly all the letters and words made perfect sense.

She studied the monitor again, he wasn't breathing at all now and only one heart fluttered a spastic beat in his chest. Grabbing the Ambu bag from the cart at the bedside, she replaced the mask on his face with the mask on the bag and pushed in several breaths into his still form by a gentle squeeze on the bag. His chest rose and fell in time with her efforts.

"Come on Doctor, breathe for me. Come on." She pleaded with his still body.

A different beeping began to sound from the equipment and she looked up to find his only functioning heart had failed. This was bad, very bad.

She laid the Ambu bag next to his head as she pressed the button labeled 'shock' which was blinking red. The Doctor's body jerked with the voltage that was attempting to restart his hearts. She rummaged the cart for anything that might help. There were several large syringes with long heavy gauge needles labeled with tape "EPI". She only hoped that the medicines inside was the proper dosage for him. She pulled one out of the drawer. No wait, he needs two, two hearts. After ripping his shirt from his chest, she held one in each hand, pulled off the protective needle cover with her teeth and dropped the cover to the floor.

"Here goes."

She thrust the needles into his chest, each syringe directly over his hearts. Automatically they injected the epinephrine into his cardiac muscles. The reaction was immediate.

The Doctor jerked violently, gasping and drawing in a deep, ragged breath. She withdrew the needles from his chest and helped him draw in much needed oxygen through the Ambu bag. "Come on, Doctor. That's it, breathe."

She was relieved when he began to breathe again on his own. He began to take on a grayish cast to his pale skin. Crisis averted and thinking back to all her training she took on the next task of diagnoses. What exactly was wrong with him?

Looking back to the monitor, she read both his hearts rhythms which were erratic, left worse off than right. Blood pressure she guessed was stable, nothing was beeping now. His oxygen levels had improved thanks to the pure oxygen he was now breathing through the mask on his face. She could hear her medical professor now, "What is the cause of this patient's distress? Troubleshoot the problem people, find the cause." Shaking off the flashback, she got to business.

She now realized what the Doctor meant when he told her the TARDIS would help her. She was sure it was her that wrapped the tendrils of knowledge in her brain, helping her translate his difficult Gallifrean language. She grabbed a medical guide from the shelf doing exactly what she wished she could do earlier, learn more about his physiology and read the texts that were such a mystery. He kept everything inside but now she was free to explore the mysteries of the Doctors species.


	6. Martha Learns

Thanks for all the kind reviews. Poor Doctor has had a bad season so far with 42 and now being Human. Martha is the bomb-diggity so smart and pretty too. He's lucky to have her as a companion. Short chapter, but its gonna get rough pretty soon. The calm before the storm.

**Chapter 6: Martha learns**

As Martha studied the thick medical manuals, a few truths became evident. The Doctor's anatomy was very close to human anatomy. There were a few major differences though. He had two hearts which made his body much more efficient at handling fluid balances and waste recycling. His twin kidneys filtered and recycled wastes so he produced very little urine. As for digestion, since his body recycled most waste products he could go for longer periods of time between meals. She always wondered why he seemed to never have to use the loo.

She already knew about his respiratory bypass system. Another thing she noticed about the Doctor was that he rarely perspired. His normal body temperature was considerably cooler than the human species which made him more tolerant to heat and cold.

She glanced over at him, much more stable now with the pure oxygen she was feeding him through the mask even though his breathing was still labored. He wore a pained expression on his face and an occasional moan reminded Martha that he was still there.

She folded the book over and placed it on the shelf. She had ransacked the cabinets to familiarize herself with the medicines and the lay of the Medical Suite. All of the medicines in the cabinets were properly labeled for Human, Gallifrean, or other species' use. Thank goodness he had the foresight to label everything properly, who knows how many years it took him to collect them all.

She could feel the TARDIS gently nudging her mind to examine the equipment and controls so she would be ready to use them if she needed. There was everything you could possibly want and more. There were dermal regenerators to use instead of stitches for cuts and abrasions, sonic tissue retractors, various cauterizing equipment for bloodless incisions and even a strange clear plexi-chamber for the treatment of various conditions which reminded Martha of a clear casket. Another cabinet held all sorts of bandages and strips, slings, splints, tubing, needles and catheters of all sizes. It was if she were in a huge medical supply store. She felt right at home.


	7. Dressing Down

_Sorry folks, it took me a while to finish another riveting chapter. Life catches up with you. Thanks for all the reviews guys! I promise to catch up on more chapters soon! Doctor Who Rocks! (as in the modern term, you rock!)_

**Chapter 7: Dressing down**

Martha's next task should have been the easiest, but turned out to be most difficult. The removal of the Doctor's clothing.

He looked so uncomfortable lying there in his now rumpled suit. She had long since removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt to expose his chest. She feared his hearts would stop again.

First, she pulled off his red Chucks and blue socks, smiling when she saw his long bare feet remembering the time they spent battling the Judoon and the plasmavore on the moon. She gently stroked the bottom of his foot checking for response. His foot jerked upwards in response to her touches which was a good sign.

Next came his jacket. She gently tried to wake him, nudging his shoulders.

"Doctor, can you hear me?"

No response.

"I'm going to make you feel better okay?"

His eyelids flickered a bit and she swore he was trying to open them to look at her.

"Doctor?" She placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in closer to him. No more response from him and he breathed a heavy sigh barely fogging the oxygen mask that covered his face.

She tugged at his jacket sleeve and pushed his arms through to remove it from him. He was limp and that made it hard for her to lift him and pull at the same time to try to get his clothing off. His shirt was torn in the front where she had injected his hearts earlier so she got out the scissors. It was much easier to cut the shirt off than lift him again. She was sure he at least had another shirt.

He had a little dried blood on the areas where she had inserted the needles to administer the epinephrine to his hearts. She cleaned them off noticing the sparse crop of fine hair on his chest. The light dusting of freckles on his torso added to her amazement of how close to human he really was.

Next, the pants. She really, really, really hoped that he had on underwear. Did Time Lords even wear underwear? She shook herself for thinking such girlish thoughts, damn it she was a Doctor herself, well almost. She took a deep breath and set herself for the task at hand.

As it was, he did have on a pair of light blue silk boxers, white pinstriped. Not the old man type either, the younger, shorter, tighter pair that was so popular nowadays. Why did she think he would wear anything else? Maybe it was because he was 900 years old.

She felt herself blush slightly as she pulled the boxers down from his hips. He was so normal, just like any other man all the bits and pieces in the right places. She didn't know why she would think otherwise after reading the anatomy guide why he would be different. She bit her lip, scoffing herself for thinking otherwise.

Quickly, she pulled a white woven thermal sheet over his legs and tucked it in around his chest. She didn't want him to catch a chill but she didn't want him to be overheated either. He seemed to be resting now, gently breathing. On occasion he would gasp, grunt or breathe out of sync for a while. She could only monitor him now, making sure he was okay. She pulled a stool to his bedside and waited.


	8. Diagnosis

_Seems the lot of you want to see more Doctor pain. Well, here it goes._

**Chapter 8: Diagnosis**

Waiting.

Waiting for a response, any response. A flicker of his lids. A movement.

Nothing. Just the sometimes uneven hitch in his chest as he breathed. At least he was breathing.

Martha studied his heart activity on the monitor over his bed. His right heart was beating regular but the left was another story. Its uneven beats drummed weakly. His blood pressure was still stable but his temperature began a steady climb. He had infection somewhere. She was still puzzled at what was wrong with him.

She needed a blood sample to check for the type of infection that was plaguing him. The TARDIS gave her a little nudge toward a drawer and she found just what she was looking for, a blood analysis machine. It was white and tiny, shaped like one of those oxygen sensors that you clip on your finger. She inserted his index finger on his left hand into the sensor and plugged it into the bed's monitor. Immediately, it began to beep, scrolling out lab values on the bottom of the screen like some wild stock ticker. The alien language was very clear to her thanks to the TARDIS' gift.

She was jolted back to reality when she heard him groan out pitifully. She leaned over him and touched his forehead. It was warm. His eyelids lifted about halfway and he peeked at her with unfocused eyes.

"Doctor, I'm here. Can you hear me?"

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he moaned again.

"Aaaahh! My ….head." He tried to move his hand up to pull at the mask but Martha caught his arm.

"What? Where am I?" He looked around, confused. He noticed Martha. "Martha?" He swallowed dryly.

He tried to sit up but only got his head up a couple of inches before falling back, exhausted. His breathing quickened and he grunted with each breath. "Ouch! What's wrong with me?" He looked over at Martha, his slightly swollen right eye beginning to darken where he had hit his head on the console.

Martha placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him for the news.

"You fell and hit your head." She didn't know if she wanted to tell him about his hearts. One step at a time Martha, she told herself.

He shook his head. "No, there's something else." He grimaced and clutched his chest with his right hand, not noticing the sensor on his left finger yet.

"What is it?" he looked directly at Martha, pleading with his deep brown eyes.

"Well…"

"Well what?" He tried to sit up again but failed miserably, flopping back against the bed defeated. In a small voice he said, "Please, tell me."

"Your hearts failed again. I got them started back and now you've got an infection."

He nodded. "Just find me some antibiotics in the cabinet, over there." He nodded toward the far wall cabinet.

"It's not that easy. The infection has settled in your left heart. That's the one that stopped when we visited Shakespeare, right?"

He nodded.

"That's why your chest hurts. It's your left heart. Pretty soon, the infection will be systemic, infecting your organs and brain. Then you'll die."

He took in what she told him.


	9. Self Analysis

_Poor Doctor. Sorry its taken me so long to update. Been thinking on some of the comments you guys sent me to finish the story. Thanks a lot! Keep them coming._

**Chapter 9: Self-Analysis**

"I'm sorry."

Hearing the words from Martha shocked him, not just that he could die, but the sorry part.

"No. Don't be."

It hurt too much to talk but he had to tell her about the regeneration process. He could still see Rose's look of confusion when he changed before. He didn't want a repeat of that. He pulled off the oxygen mask.

"Martha, there's this thing that happens to me if I die." He whispered, grasping her hand even tighter. "I need to tell you."

Just at that moment, pain wracked his body and he felt himself convulse. He heard himself scream and it echoed in his aching brain. His chest felt heavy and he could barely breathe. The room began to spin and he was sick again, this time dry heaving as his body spasmed. Martha's hands felt cold to him as she tried to hold him, supporting him as he shook, coughing and gagging at the same time. He heard her quiet mantra.

"You're not going to die. You can't die. I'm going to help you. You'll be better soon."

He could feel her shaking along with him as she wiped his sweaty brow. He leaned in toward the coolness of the cloth.

"Martha….. cough …. I need …. grimace of pain ….I need to see….."

His mouth was so dry he could no longer speak. He could only point to the monitor. Martha pressed a button and it immediately spat out his test results. She handed it to him and fished his glasses from her pocket to place them on his face. He studied the print.

This was bad, very bad. He groaned in frustration. "No, no, no." he cried. It couldn't be. The levels were way too low.

He gazed into Martha's worried eyes.

"I can't regenerate!"


	10. Steady Now

**Chapter 10: Steady Now**

"Regenerate? What do you mean?" Martha worriedly asked him.

"It's a thing……a trick we Time Lords do when we…….. die." He was still gasping for air.

Martha tried to replace the oxygen mask on his face. "Don't talk like that."

He held the mask back with his hand "You said yourself."

She shook her head and took his upraised hand, gently fixing the mask on his face. "I'm not gonna let you die, Doctor. I couldn't."

Now the shock was settling in her mind. It was true. He was very sick, and bound to be even sicker as this was the beginning of the infection. If this Regeneration thing he talked about was not functional, well there was a good chance he would die. She brushed away the tear that threatened to fall. She was a Doctor, well almost. She could help him.

He was having more and more difficulty breathing and she turned up the oxygen feed a little. Sponging his brow again she looked into his eyes, so full of pain. She could barely stand it. She could tell even he did not know what to do.

"Just breathe, okay? Rest.", she cooed. He nodded weakly, swallowing back a pain filled grunt.

He needed something to help ease the pain. She rummaged the cabinet again, pulling out an intravenous start kit, tubing and solution, and syringes for the pain medication she found. She rolled over the IV stand complete with pump. How convenient.

He seemed to take her advice; he had closed his eyes and began taking deeper breaths. She took his hand again.

"I'm going to start this medicine for you, you'll need it for the pain. I know your chest hurts and this will help." She rubbed his right arm, checking for appropriate veins to place the needle. He continued to take breaths and again nodded slightly, not even opening his eyes as she slid the needle into his vein and secured it with tape. She threaded the tubing into the pump and began the fluid.

"Here goes." He watched her as she slowly injected the pain medication into the tubing port. She studied his reaction, again sponging his face with the cloth. "Better?"

He nodded weakly and whispered, "Thanks" Again he closed his eyes. She lay the cool cloth over his forehead and studied the readouts again.

She was sure the initial infection came from the plasmavore's attack, partially draining his blood salts. Who knows where her straw had been. That was enough time for the bacteria from her straw to settle in his left heart.

Then if that wasn't enough, his left heart was stopped again by the witch when they were visiting with Shakespeare. Then the stress of the fight with the Daleks. The lightening strike he had suffered short circuited his immune system and allowed the infection to mutate and grow and spread to his body. He was lucky to be alive after all that. She knew he wasn't human but still….


	11. Heart Failure

_I guess the chapter title gives this one away. Who's heart will it be? More reviews makes the infection go away._

**Chapter 11: Heart Failure**

She was startled by his gasp and weak voice, muffled by the mask.

"Martha."

She looked back at him, his weary face reflected misery and pain.

"I'm here." She touched his cheek, removing the cloth from his forehead. It had only been about 15 minutes since she was near enough to notice him. He was shivering. She felt his bare chest, he was burning up with fever. His temperature had been elevated but now it was even more so.

"Hurts.", was all he could manage to say.

"Hurts worse?"

He nodded.

"Where?"

He grunted, "My chest and head…..agh!...nerve endings….brain on fire……..ugh..can't breathe…."

She steadied his shaking body by a gentle touch to his shoulder. What made it even worse were his next words, a small strangled reply before his eyes rolled back under his lids.

"Help me!"

The monitor squealed out an urgent response to yet another change in his body. His left heart had failed again. Checking the monitors again, she pushed the button 'Cardiac Scan'. The scan was immediate, not like waiting for results of x-rays or CTs. His right heart had picked up the beat to make up for the loss of his left heart. It seemed his left heart was swollen with inflammation and infection. It had rapidly grown since her last check. With his immune system shorted out, who knew what would happen next.

The monitor squealed again, this time it showed a decrease in oxygen content again. He couldn't get oxygen any higher than he was receiving through the mask. He was gasping ineffective breaths, starving for the critical element. She would have to do something, he was turning blue.

Martha wrung her hands muttering, "What to do, what to do? Ineffective breathing pattern, heart failure…….Life Support!" The answer became evident to her. In a flash she had a breathing tube in place and connected the ventilator. She listened to the gentle push of air through a stethoscope she placed on the Doctor's chest.

She stood back, again studying the readouts. His left heart was still but his right was compensating. She pushed more medication to stabilize him into his IV line and hung a few more bags of solutions that would hopefully reduce his fever and infection. Studying the cardiac scan she noticed an artery that was feeding the left heart from the right, keeping blood flow to the left heart. That meant that his left heart could recover if the infection was eradicated.

She stood back, regarding his now still form. A breathing tube entered his mouth and was connected to tubes that attached to the ventilator. The ventilator was a small unit, fitting on a bedside tabletop. Not like the larger units she was used to. This one was calibrated to automatically adjust to the patient's condition. The blood sampler was still on his right finger.

"Oh Doctor," she felt sorry for him, so vunerable. She took his hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry I had to do this to you." Her tears dropped onto the sheet that covered him. She sniffed away a sob. At least he was alive. She was determined to keep it that way.


	12. The TARDIS Takes Control

_Keep on reviewing! I had a long think about this one. Long live the Doctor!_

**Chapter 12: The TARDIS Takes Control**

Martha was exhausted. She sagged her tired muscles into the chair she had dragged beside the Doctor's bed. His fever had been steadily rising and she fought to keep him stable. She had placed a cooling blanket over him and began stronger antibiotics. His face was dangerously pale and a fevered pink tinge brushed his cheeks. The ventilator continued to push oxygen in his lungs and his right heart frantically strummed a rapid rhythm. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

She remembered the first time she saw him, outside Royal Hope Hospital. Then there he was in the holding ward for stomach pains. She now knew the truth; he was only faking it so he could find out what was going on with the alien signals he had picked up. She could see him now, smiling at her as she bent over with her stethoscope to listen to his heart…. Hearts. She had scoffed him for going outside. He denied, looking all innocent, like a child. Of course it was him, proving a point at a later date. She would give anything to have him smile like that at her right now instead of being comatose.

Opening her eyes she saw a flash out of the corner. Across the room. She blinked, rubbing her eyes and looking again. Nothing.

"I'm going crazy. Where are you when I need you, Doctor?" She spoke directly to him then, "Are you sure there's no ghosts aboard the TARDIS?", she nervously laughed.

Again, the alarms sounded as his temperature began climbing. The infection had reached his brain, right at the hypothalamic center where the temperature was controlled. Soon, it would infect even deeper brain tissues, affecting his heartbeat. Then he would die. She wondered about the regeneration process he had mentioned, how it would work. She couldn't find anything about it in any of the books or guides. But it was nonfunctioning as he said. She would have to save him, as she had before. He couldn't die; he was her only ticket home.

He began to convulse, seizing with fever, heart rate rapid. Soon he would fibrillate and his heart would fail. She tried desperately to keep him from falling between the bedrail and further injuring himself. It was then she saw the flicker of light once again, and again. It was the clear chamber; a purplish glow lit the interior. She was so tired; she had totally ignored the TARDIS' assistance.

The Doctor's convulsing suddenly stopped along with his quivering heart. She had to hurry. She placed the IV bag and small ventilator unit on the bed with him and unplugged the blood sampler from the monitor then heaved the bed toward the chamber. She adjusted the bed level with the chamber and pushed up on the lid to open it. It reminded her somewhat of a tanning bed, though the clear acrylic domed lid fully covered the person inside. It had a soft lining underneath and medical body scanners were made in the edges of the lid.

She pulled his body over to the chamber, grunting with the weight of him. He was totally limp and she had to be careful not to dislodge the IV line or ventilator tubes in his throat. His naked body was grey now, rapidly becoming oxygen deficient again without a means to circulate blood. She positioned him on his back, quickly feeding the tubes and wire through the holders in the base above his head. Before closing the lid, she saw a thin clear tube poking out of the bed's white frame. It glistened with a thick amber liquid at its tip. Examining it closer, she discovered it came from a panel located at the base of the chamber and ran to disappear within the wall of the TARDIS.

She would have to trust the TARDIS on this one. She hadn't a clue what the substance was but she had a strong feeling that it would help. It needed to be fed directly into his main circulation but how? She pulled on the tube, lengthening it careful not to touch the tip. It seemed to move and grow on its own somehow, its tip becoming sharper with each second.

She pushed it through the vein in the right side of his neck, feeding it down his carotid to the vein that led directly to his right heart. She followed its path on the display over her head above the chamber. It seemed to know when it was placed correctly; she couldn't feed it any longer. She watched as the tubing grew inside his both his hearts, winding through the artery between them. She saw fluids pumping through the tubing.

The ventilator continued to push oxygen through his lungs while she frantically worked to help him. Now she could only watch as the TARDIS took control of his body.


	13. Stable at Last?

**Chapter 13: Stable at Last**

Martha was out of options. It was only natural that the one item that would help the Doctor would be his own ship.

The tubing from the TARDIS had wound tiny tendrils into the Doctors hearts, gently prodding the right heart to beat once again. The left heart remained still. Martha surmised that the branches of the tubing were releasing much needed nutrients and medication to help combat the infection there. Amber liquid still flowed freely through the tubing.

His coloring had improved although he was still white with shock. Martha breathed a silent prayer of relief, checking the ventilator and placing it on the small bedside table. She felt his cheek. He was still burning up, his fever unchecked. She hung up the IV solutions on the pump's pole and restarted the fluids.

After she plugged in the blood sampler from his finger to the monitor, small ports in the cover of the chamber began to steam and it blinked a dim purple. She placed her hand in the steam, testing to see what it was. She felt coolness, a cool vapor mist that felt cold to her warm hands. A cooling mist! Instead of the cooling blanket, the mist would help to cool his fevered body. The purplish light would kill any bacteria that could cause the Doctor to become even sicker.

He was still naked and she tucked a thin sheet around his body up to his chest, making sure he would be comfortable and not chilled. She smoothed the hair from his hot forehead, whispering in his ear.

"You're going to be okay. We're going to take good care of you. The TARDIS is helping me, just like you said. You're going to be all right."

She closed the chamber's lid.


	14. The Weight of it All

**Chapter 14: The Weight of it All**

As she closed the chamber to encase the Doctor, Martha felt extremely worried. He didn't look good at all and the violet light just made him look sicker. She placed her hand on the clear glass, still making sure he was breathing okay.

The TARDIS was so quiet. She never realized that he was the source of most of the noise on board. She hadn't noticed earlier but it seemed that the TARDIS had landed. She didn't feel the usual vibration of motion in her feet. She would check on the control room but she was afraid to leave the Doctor unattended. It could wait till later. Healing the Doctor was more important.

She watched him breathe with the aid of the ventilator. His face was now calm, almost death-like. She checked the monitors. His right heart was still being assisted by the tiny tendrils from the TARDIS. His left heart was still silent. The infection was now widespread invading his brain and tissues. She whispered a prayer for him, closing her eyes and placing her head on the chamber.

It was then she noticed how tired she had become. It felt as if the weight of the universe lay on her shoulders. Was this how he felt most of the time? How could he have stood it for 900 or more years? Her head buzzed with the thought of it. She straightened up and headed for the bed that had previously held the Doctor, finally exhausted.

_Short chapter I know, but I have another I wanted to split off from this one. Please review and comment._


	15. TARDIS, MD

**Chapter 15: TARDIS, M.D.**

The TARDIS hummed a gentle soothing rhythm for the both of them. She knew her Doctor was very ill and Martha was exhausted. She cared a lot for his companions, knowing they do the best they can.

She pumped antibiotics and medicines to his sick body, removing toxic fluids and wastes using the tubing from her own self. She had more than enough medications to last her lifetime and his. She was grown to be fully self-sufficient continually recycling toxins from the air and water she supplied for them.

She heard his pain in her own mind, using the telepathic link that connected them. She attempted to soothe his ills, sending reassurance to him that he would be okay and he shut her out, sparing her his misery. His last thoughts were for her to help Martha. So she did, reading his vital signs and nudging her to proper treatments. Martha was linked to her now although her mind was not as open to telepathy like his. She could only send her suggestions. She hoped that the link would strengthen in time.

She hummed to them, lulling them into a deeper, healing sleep. She dimmed the lights as she felt Martha sleep.

She monitored her Doctor as Martha slept on, keeping him sedated to prevent further injury to his already tasked organs. He would recover in time, her medicines and fluids being superior to anything he had collected in his cabinets.

He was always so busy tending her every need, making those adjustments she couldn't do herself it was only fair she return the favor.


	16. Sweet Dreams

**Chapter 16: Sweet Dreams**

"Martha? Martha Jones."

A soft male voice invaded her sleep. She opened her eyes. Deep brown pools that could only be the Doctor's eyes peered back at her.

She sat up suddenly, shocked to see him in front of her looking so healthy. He was looking at her now with a questioning look on his face. She stood and slowly approached him.

"What? Martha Jones, you're staring at me like I've got three heads or something."

He looked so innocent; maybe he didn't know that he had been sick. Wait…..last time she checked he was laying in a chamber, a breathing tube in his throat with a ventilator sustaining his breathing. Maybe he had pulled it out.

"How did you get out of bed? Doctor, you've been very sick. Let me help you back to bed."

"Sick?! I'm fine; Well, I'm better than fine. Actually I'm hungry, lets eat. I'll whip us up some chicken casserole, with banana splits for dessert." He turned to run out of the med suite. She noticed he had put on his suit.

"Wait!" He turned.

"Aren't you coming?"

"Yes, but let me check you out first." She was concerned that the moment was only a temporary spasm of wellness. She wanted to make sure. After all, he wasn't human; maybe he had super healing capabilities. The med books had mentioned faster healing but after the infections he had?

"I told you, I'm fine."

She gave him a serious glance, lowering her head and pointing to the exam table. "Now!"

"Oh….. all right." He trudged over to the table and jumped up on it, sighing loudly.

She got out her stethoscope and placed it on his chest, listening to his gentle breathing and the swish of his hearts. All normal. Not even a wheeze.

"Satisfied?" He asked, beaming a smirky smile at her.

"Are you sure you're all right? I mean, your hearts stopped and everything. You were on life support."

"I was!?"

"Yes!" She tried to hold back the tears of relief but they flowed freely down her cheeks.

"What's this?" He jumped off the exam table and gathered her up in a big hug. "I'm all right, really I am." 

She tightly hugged him back, "I'm just glad you are okay. I was so worried."

"Don't be worried, everything is gonna' be all right."

She felt warm and fuzzy in his comforting embrace, felt just like sleep. The sleep that comes when you are at the end of a really good dream. Dream. Sleep.

She opened her eyes again and she found herself lying on the bed beside the chamber again. She had fallen asleep. A small wheezing noise alerted her to the chamber and inside was the Doctor, just like she had left him earlier, tubes and all.

So it was only a dream.


	17. The Venomous Creature

Chapter 17: The Venomous Creature

Nothingness, blankness, kaput.

That's what went through the Doctor's head for a short time. He was so glad that the pain had stopped. The blinding pain that had bit into his head and chest like a large venomous creature that was too terrible to describe. In fact, he felt the creature was still there, only delayed by something else. He couldn't wrap his brain around it.

He was so tired of waiting. He felt something was happening but couldn't tell what it was. That was the frustrating bit. He couldn't see or feel anything anymore.

"What is wrong with me?" his voice echoed empty in his head.

The Venomous creature stirred, waking from its sleep. Crimson bled through the darkness before his eyes. He groaned with the thought of it waking, bringing the misery of pain along with it. Quite possibly it was lonely too.

This time it was choking him, like breathing through a straw filled with ice cream, only not pleasant tasting. His lungs seared as they filled with the thick toxic fluid. He couldn't breathe.

_Sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter. Life is very busy and it catches up with you. Poor Doctor, I promise he's going to get better. Stay with it._


	18. Waking up is hard to do

Chapter 18: Waking up is hard to do

Martha was worried.

After the disappointing dream she feared that the Doctor would never awaken. She stared at him through the clear shield that protected him. He was still too pale, too still and too sick. His vitals remained stable despite the fact that his left heart didn't beat and the infection ravaged his system. Who knows what the TARDIS was pumping into his body but it seemed to be helping.

She busied herself about, cleaning up the med quarters. She had discarded paper wrappings, gauze and plastic covers on the floor in her hurry to keep the Doctor alive.

Most of her day was spent in a chair beside the chamber, reviewing the medical manuals, hoping she had missed some clue or miracle cure that could bring him out of his coma.

She was roused only by the gurgling noise of mucous rising in the Doctor's throat. He began to choke and cough and his body spasmed with the effort. She threw back the clear hood from the bed and checked the placement of the breathing tube in his mouth. It was still secure so she disconnected it to suction the thick secretions from the lumen.

The Doctor coughed violently while she tended his airway. This was a good sign that he was beginning to awaken. At least he was trying to protect his airway now. Before he didn't even respond to the suctioning.

She reconnected the tubing to the ventilator. She could tell he was trying to resist the rush of air into his lungs so she set the ventilator on auto detect. He took in a few feeble breaths of his own before the settings kicked in again.

"You did it!" she smiled, leaning over him and stroking his hair back from his face. He was still too warm but the cooling mist had stopped. "Come on Doctor, breathe for me." She coaxed him, "Breathe! You can do it. That's it."

He drew in another shallow breath, then another. He tried to swallow and Martha noticed he had grasped the blankets in tight fists.

"I've got you, Doctor. I'm here. You're doing just fine. Just breathe."

His eyelids fluttered, revealing a hint of brown. He wasn't fully aware just yet but he might just hear her.

"There you are. Hello." She wiped away a tear of relief.

His legs ruffled the blankets slightly and he began to tremble. His heart rate picked up a few beats and he grimaced, tightly closing his eyes again. She placed her hand softly on his bare chest and gently rubbed in a small circle.

Again his eyes fluttered, partially opening. She placed a hand on his forehead to steady his head. He drew in more breaths on his own. Hopefully she could take out the tube soon. She knew how patients hated to be dependant on a machine to breathe for them and how uncomfortable they were while they were intubated. He would be no different.

He coughed again, dark brown eyes roaming his field of vision. It took all his strength just to look about.

"You're really sick, Doctor. Don't try to move too much." She really hoped he understood what she was saying. "You got a tube in your throat helping you breathe. Try to rest. You're doing fine."

His eyes rolled back under his heavy lids and he stilled after a few seconds but he continued to breathe some on his own.

"You're going to be okay." She only hoped it was not a futile statement. After all, his left heart still ceased to function and the infection continued to run its course. She lowered the lid back over him to normalize his body temperature. She only hoped her training and the TARDIS' help was enough.


	19. Three Days Later

Chapter 19: Three Days Later

It had been 36 hours now since the Doctor fell ill. Martha rarely left the side of the chamber he lay in. She had taken out the breathing tube. Oxygen was being delivered to the inside of the chamber so he didn't need a mask for that. It made it so much better to see his face, unmasked and calm, no tubes poking out. She supposed it was like a hyperbaric oxygen chamber, helping him to heal by delivering pressurized and concentrated doses of pure oxygen to the patient inside. Sadly, he had not tried to open his eyes anymore.

She had given him a warm sponge bath and dressed him in a pair of light blue pajamas she had found in one of the medical quarters' storage closets. He was still feverish, with bouts of chilling and sweats that took Martha's care to sponge him off and change his damp bed clothing. She caught quick naps whenever she could.

His vital signs had remained stable, and she had begun to monitor his urine output with an indwelling catheter. He was producing very little urine, the TARDIS still assisting with waste removal through the tube in his carotid artery. His left heart was less inflamed now, closer to normal size for him but it still failed to beat. It was as if his body was on hold, only to breathe.

He rarely moved and Martha put his limbs through range of motion exercises three times a day. She hated to think he would recover to find his joints had become stiffened and immovable. Maybe they wouldn't, his body might just undo damage done by his immobility. She had to keep reminding herself he wasn't human. Anyway, it wouldn't hurt him, might even improve his circulation and prevent the swelling that happens in critically ill individuals.

He shifted slightly, softly groaning a bit. He did that a lot, the groaning part. The groan spoke volumes to Martha. She rarely heard him groan when he was well, only in the direst of circumstance. She heard pain, boredom, fear, misery, and exasperation all wrapped up in that one little groan. Then came the fevered sigh, escaping his pale lips, making her heart break to see him so ill.

She loved him. Only had known him a few days and she loved him to bits. He was the last. Last of his kind. She had to save him. She couldn't fail. Somehow she knew that more than her sanity depended on his survival.


	20. Time to Heal

Chapter 20:

Chapter 20: Time to heal

Time. So hard to track when you're ill. Or when you are someone who is caring for one who is ill. Martha spent hours caring for her fallen hero.

As for the Doctor, moments of awareness bled through the darkness. At first he was scared, the creature of pain being his only friend. He had tried to talk it down in his mind, only to find it wouldn't be consoled. Making friends with it was the only other option.

Hearing the faint comforting buzz of the TARDIS made him realize he was being helped and was among friends. As long as she was on his side that's all that mattered. But there was someone else. His brain couldn't quite follow the thought. So many companions, so little time. It always came back to time. Not enough time, ever.

Time however stretched out for him, trying to open his eyes hurt. He couldn't see much but a blur. So cold, then sweating hot. His arms and legs ached and he felt slight movements and hands touching his body. He tried to make a movement, a sound, anything but found he lacked the strength. Why had his body refused to cooperate? Something, oh how his head hurt. And his chest. Had he regenerated and fell into a restorative coma? Most of the time he felt nothing when that happened, he just fell into a deep sleep. Rose made it all feel better the last time.

Rose. Something about her made him feel better and worse at the same time. Maybe it was her that was touching him, caring for him. He tried to open his eyes again. He took a deep breath to calm the pain in his chest as a blurred shadow fell across his vision field.

Someone was saying something.

"Easy. I'm here."

He cleared his dry throat and breathed again. The pain in his chest eased and he felt a coolness dabbing about on his forehead.

"Rose." He felt himself rasp. Something about his voice was weird, so quiet and strained. He began to cough, body seizing up with pain. It was hard to catch his breath. He felt a choking sensation and something entered his mouth. He heard a sucking sound and found it much easier to breathe after he felt it being withdrawn. Dry coughs followed. He couldn't help it, he tried to stop them. Then something cold across his dry lips. Cold and wet. Water. Cold water, just the tiniest amount but it was enough to soothe his dry throat.

"Better?" he heard the voice say.

He mustered up a small nod and closed his eyes to the now painful blur in his vision.

He wanted to know more but felt helpless and weak. He had lost his voice on that one little word. What was it? He'd lost the word too. Oh, rabbits. Rabbits. Where had he heard that one before? Funny thing, time. It's with time you seem to forget things.


	21. One Word

Chapter 21: The Healer

Chapter 21: One word

Martha woke with a start, immediately looking over to where the Doctor lay, enclosed in the clear chamber that held him. What had woken her?

Cough.

There it was; a weak cough and groan. She opened the clear cover and leaned over him.

She soothed him, placing her hand softly on his cheek. He was beginning to sweat a bit, exerting all his strength just to wake. Martha dabbed a cool cloth on his face as she did so many times before when his fevers broke. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her. She could tell he was having problems focusing his vision; he blinked in the bright light of the medical quarter. His right brow area was still shadowed from the connection with the TARDIS console when he fell. She stroked back his hair.

"Easy, I'm here."

He was still trying to focus, his brown eyes drifting about. Martha's heart was breaking into but also glad he was regaining consciousness. Martha was unprepared for what came next. One simple word.

"Rose."

He breathed a few times before the coughing set in again. It was the kind of cough where you have something caught in your throat, thick and raspy. Martha was quickly brought back from the word that stirred questions deep within her soul. He was choking.

She quickly suctioned his airway and he responded with some dry coughing. He licked his dry lips. He continued to try to clear the dryness from his throat. Taking a syringe she pulled up some cold water from the sink. Drop by drop she gave him water and he hungrily lapped it up, not too much though. She didn't want him to strangle.

"Better?" she asked.

He nodded slightly and closed his eyes. His eye brows were knitted together in pain and he groaned slightly.

"Doctor?" she placed her hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He opened his eyes again and blinked, looking over towards her. He reminded her of a newborn kitten opening its eyes for the very first time. She couldn't be angry at him for thinking she was Rose. She knew Rose meant a lot to him from the tiny clues he'd mentioned about her. Martha couldn't help but to be a little jealous, she cared a lot for him. He was probably just a little confused from the shock to his body from all the infection.

She could tell he was miserable. The probe from the TARDIS was still implanted in his right carotid artery, tendrils now wrapped around his normal sized left heart, prodding it to beat out a feeble rhythm. His lab values had improved, the infection finally dissipating.

"You're going to be all right. It's just going to take time."

Time. He closed his eyes and slept.

Later, Martha moved him from the chamber to the bed in the Medical Suite. He seemed to rest better but still his body continued to use a lot of oxygen to help with the healing process. She placed an oxygen mask on his face. The TARDIS probe lengthened in response to the move and continued the assistance his body so much needed. IV fluids fed into the vein in his left arm keeping him hydrated while he recovered. The TARDIS took care of the medicine he needed at the moment.

"What would Rose do?" she asked herself, whispering. "Good ol' Rose." She smiled sadly, remembering when they shared the bed in Shakespeare's time. Of course he didn't make any moves on her not that she expected it. But when he said what he did then, it had ran deep in her. Rose.

Was she herself just a passing fancy to him, an experiment? "Just one trip". One trip proved to be a few trips. Not that she didn't enjoy them, she loved it. She loved him.

He shifted around, groaning, his arms and legs moving under soft white blankets. She knew he had to be hurting. She rubbed slow circles on the center his chest and quietly spoke to him.

"I know you're hurt and in pain. It's okay. Just rest and don't worry. I'm here for you."

She said this more to reassure herself.


	22. A good Scrubbing

Chapter 22:

Chapter 22: A Good Scrubbing

_Sorry I've taken so long updating_. _I've been loving the new season of Doctor Who. _

Martha lost track of the days she spent tending to the Doctor's every need. It really didn't seem too much of a chore now that his body was on the mend. His left heart still carried the tendrils from the TARDIS, only occasionally prodding it to beat normally.

Mainly he slept.

He looked so fragile lying there. She read and talked to him, hoping it would stimulate his senses to awaken. It worried her that he was so quiet. The monitors told her that his brain wave activity was normal and the only thing he really needed was continued oxygen support and fluids. Obviously something was healing requiring loads of oxygen. Most likely it was his cardiovascular system.

She repositioned him on his right side, fluffing his pillows and tenderly replacing them under his head. She adjusted his oxygen mask.

"Lets get you comfy." She said to him, raking her fingers through his hair. She realized at that point that she had not washed it for him and it felt stiff from leftover hair gel and perspiration. Of course she had given his body attention but he had been so ill she had not thought of his hair.

She finished propping him on his side stuffing pillows between his knees and pillows to support his back and left arm. Then she left him briefly to visit his room to scavenge for his shampoo.

A million worries went through Martha's head. Did he use hair shampoo or just soap? She supposed he used hair gel to get his hair to style and stand up like it did but it never seemed to need a comb. It amazed her that he could defeat aliens in the rain, heat, steam, and cold and never need to adjust his hair. "Must be one hell of a product." She mused.

She pushed the door open to his room. She knew where it was in relation to hers but had never been inside. She had seen him enter there a few times so she knew he at least showered and changed.

It was large and dark, mahogany-looking wood tiles lined the walls making it look cozy and manly. It even smelled of him, like vanilla musk. The huge four-poster bed was unmade, tan bed sheets and comforter. Lots of pillows strewn everywhere. He had a huge oak wardrobe that was partially open, revealing clothing stuffed inside some of which were not hung, just sort of thrown in. No mirrors. She crossed the room toward the bath.

It was white. Everything. Lush, green, real ivy vines lined the walls. She gingerly touched one to make sure it was real. How he got them to grow in the bath she would never know. Maybe the TARDIS took care of them.

In the shower floor she spied several bottles. There was one orange tall slender bottle that she couldn't recognize the writing. It smelled like oranges. She picked up a green square glass bottle that smelled like lilacs. It only had a year stamped in the glass on the bottle "1887". She spied one black bottle that looked familiar. "Axe Hair and Body". She picked it up and rushed back to his side.

She ran some warm water in a glass beaker and gathered some towels. She placed everything on a bedside table and rolled it to his bedside.

"I'm going to shampoo your hair. You need a good scrubbing." Then she set to her task.

Lining the bed with towels, she dampened his hair with the water from the beaker careful not to get everything too wet. She opened the spout on the shampoo and breathed in the warm musky scent. Working the lather in his hair, she massaged his scalp. He let out a soft sigh, under the mask she could see the corners of his mouth working up into a little smile.

"Doctor? Does that feel good? I'm sure it does. Come on, open your eyes for me. I'm here. Just open your eyes". she gently coaxed him.

She finished washing and rinsing his hair, towel drying and then smoothed it back with a comb. He could style it later when he was better. She stood back, admiring him.

Sadly she smiled, "I miss you. I really wish you would wake up. It's too quiet without you here." She pulled the stool over beside the bed and held his hand, stroking the palm with her fingers. "I took a peek outside earlier. Thanks for bringing me home." She didn't know if it was him or the TARDIS that parked on the street outside her flat.

She lay her head on the bed beside him and sobbed. She needed him. She let the quiet rhythm of his breath lull her into a deep sleep.


	23. Comfort and Joy

Chapter 23:

Chapter 23: Comfort and Joy

Somewhere in the darkness there is a soft feminine voice that keeps calling to him, talking, even at times singing, laughing and crying. It bothered him. He wanted to reach out and touch it, if only for a fleeting moment to try to let it know he was listening. He didn't even know if the voice was meant for him to hear, but he heard it. Someone needed him.

He supposed it was his helpful nature that allowed him to swim the inky painful blackness toward the surface, at times choking on the dark it was so thick. He tried to call out, not able to make a sound or move in its depths.

He didn't give up. The darkness became lighter and lighter, brown then grey. He felt comfort. Sometimes he felt circles being drawn on his back, like some kind of ancient ritual. Hands cradled his head, softly kneading his aching brain. He didn't feel smothered anymore. The pain in his body came in now controlled waves. He knew he would hurt but then like a wave of water washing over him it would disappear. He didn't know who he was anymore. He only knew he was.

Light poked holes in the grey fog. He aimed toward the lights, floating up and out of the grayness. His ears felt like they were full of water. He could hear a pulsing, a soft buzz he couldn't quite place but he felt he had heard it before. It made him feel warm, like he was at home for the first time in years. He noticed more sensations, dizziness, a bit nauseous but that soon passed. Smells, oh the smells of something clean….no…. antiseptics…..there was something reminding him of bubbles…..what was it…..shammu? No….shampoo. Shammu was a large something. He didn't feel large.

Wait! Sight! He could see something in the distance. It looked white, big and white. A large white field. Fuzzy rectangular shapes. Some kind of cabinet with equipment on it. A telly with strange scrolling images. Where had he watched the telly before?

He was afraid to move. Movement meant pain and he wanted to stay in the present, not be dragged back to the darkness.

He felt softness under his fingertips. Straining to see he looked down toward his feet. He was lying on his side in a bed of white. Someone held his left hand. He could only see dark hair and skin, no details or clues of who it might be. Maybe it was the source of the voice he heard in the dark. He wasn't afraid.

A soft beeping began in the distance, like some kind of alarm. He really wished it would stop, it was very annoying.

He watched the dark figure stir, moving from its place at his side. He remained quiet; he didn't want to scare her away. Somehow he knew she needed him to be there but didn't expect him to be there. She turned to face him.

Her eyes grew wide as she stared back at him.

"Doctor?"

He found himself speechless as he fought to find a word to say. His brain could not wrap around a word.

She let go of his hand and stood, reaching around him to give him a warm embrace. He heard himself grunt in response to her. She smelled good, like a warm sunny day. And antiseptics.

"I was so worried." She let him go, placing a hand softly on his cheek. Her thumb stroked his face. It felt like heaven. He closed his eyes and gave silent thanks for her being there, even though he didn't know her name. She felt familiar anyway.

"How are you feeling?"

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. Feeling? He didn't know. For so long he only had one feeling.

"Hurts." His voice cracked, a small whisper through dry lips.

She began to cry. He felt sorry for her. "Don't……..don't cry." He whispered. It hurt to even talk.

She nodded and wiped away the tears from her eyes.

"It's just that you're back. It's been so long since you've been awake. I'm so relieved. I was beginning to wonder if you would be all right."

He nodded slightly, afraid still to move too much. It just took too much energy. He felt something on his face, his voice echoed in his head when he spoke. He tried reaching up with his left hand to wipe it away but she took his hand to prevent it.

"Here, let me help you. I know what you need." She rummaged in the cabinet beside his bed. "You need to keep the oxygen going. Your body needs it right now." She pulled something from his face, he didn't quite see what it was but he felt it was the thing he wanted gone. She placed something around his ears and nose. It felt cold. "This will help you breathe and maybe you can talk better now."

She talked to him, the best he understood he had been ill, and was still very sick. She had been taking care of him and he was safe and on the mend. He still had no clue of where he was but it felt like he was close to where he should be. She had called him "Doctor". Maybe he worked and lived at the hospital where he was recuperating. Something told him she was a fellow Doctor, and they were close but he didn't know how close. His mind was shutting down and her voice echoed in his head.

She began to shush him, stroking his hair. She smiled at him, softly humming. He breathed in her scent deeply, closing his tired eyes. Somehow he knew everything would be okay when he woke again.


	24. It's only a Dream

Chapter 24:

Chapter 24: It's only a dream

Martha felt relieved that the Doctor was finally waking, although she was saddened by his pain. She just wanted him to be on his feet again, bouncing through time and place, telling her of the wonders of the universe. All in due time.

Right now she sat by him, gently lulling him to sleep by stroking back his hair. He was still too pale, weakened by the stress to his body.

When she was satisfied he was asleep, she went to her room in the TARDIS for a quick shower and change of clothes. She wanted something comfortable so she pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants and maroon shirt from her bag. She returned to the med quarter and stretched out in the plush maroon Victorian style chair she had dragged from a room down the hallway earlier. She was tired of sleeping in the chair by his bed plus it gave her an awful backache. Soon she fell asleep studying her medical texts.

Later she was awakened by a moaning sound, soft at first then growing louder. It was the Doctor, weakly thrashing around in the bed. A thin film of sweat covered his face as he mumbled incomprehensibly. She placed a hand on his chest noting the rapid strum of his hearts, "Doctor, I'm here."

He continued to toss about, restless. His eyes moved rapidly beneath pale lids as he was in the middle of a nightmare. He began to scream, horrible pain filled agony speaking volumes of sheer desperation. Martha tried to calm him, trying not to get upset herself.

"Doctor, wake up. You're having a nightmare, only a dream. Please."

He continued to scream only now in another language Martha supposed was his native Gallifrean. She sponged his brow with a cool cloth, hoping it would rouse him from his dream. She gently shook him by the shoulders holding back her own tears, "Please Doctor. I need you. I need you to wake up."

Suddenly his back arched from the bed and he let out a deafening scream that echoed throughout the TARDIS. She swore she felt the TARDIS shudder as he screamed, her lights dimming just for a second. Martha was scared, for him, for herself and for the TARDIS. Then, he fell back to the bed gasping for breath, his eyes now open. She had never seen the Doctor looking so scared.

"They're gone." He gasped, sucking in uneven breaths of air. He looked at Martha, her heart breaking knowing what he meant. His people, his family, his planet, gone. His eyes filled with tears and his chin trembled with sadness. She scooped him up into an embrace and held him gently while he cried. "Gone…… Help me…….." She didn't know what to say, she only held onto him as he sobbed with grief. He calmed a bit and pushed away to look at her. She gently placed him back on the bed, adjusting the oxygen tubes around his nose.

She wiped the tears and sweat from his face. "There, better?"

He watched her intently as she moved to touch his face. She supposed he was still scared and hurting.

"Just breathe. Calm down, it was only a dream."

He tried to sit up, struggling for breath.

He shook his head, "Gone, They're gone. I can't feel them anymore. Martha, don't leave me." He reached up a hand toward her and she took it, firmly grasping his fingers.

"Never. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." She eased him back into the pillows. "Now, just rest and breathe. You're going to be okay."

He had told her once about his planet, the people of Gallifrey. He described it in such a manner that she could almost see it. She knew he longed for home after hearing his description. Tears shone in his eyes and he became quiet when she asked him what happened. She remembered his reply, "There was a war. They burned."

She sat on the edge of his bed reassuring him with soft touches and words. He looked so tired, his dark eyes full of pain.

"Martha? My chest hurts."

"I know. One of your hearts stopped but it's better now. You're on the mend."

"I need….." he looked around. "I need…….." he turned to look at Martha like he was lost. He tried again to sit up. "I need to get up…..find them….." Martha caught him before he fell back into the mattress.

"Easy, Doctor. I've got you."

"Please…." He whispered.

"Where you gonna go? You're here, in the TARDIS. You're safe. It was only a dream. You need to rest. Let me take care of you." She mopped his brow again with the cloth and he leaned into it.

"I'm sorry…..I'm so sorry." He pleaded.

"It's okay. Really Doctor. You need your rest. You can't get up anyway; the TARDIS is still connected to you."

"What?"

"The TARDIS, here." She touched the right side of his neck where the TARDIS' tubing entered under sterile dressings. Gingerly, he felt there, Martha's hands guiding his own.

He smiled briefly and closed his eyes, "Thanks old friend." The TARDIS hummed a lighter tone in response and it made Martha smile.

"She answered you back."

He nodded, still weakly smiling.

Martha laughed. "It's been the TARDIS all along, helping you. She's been leading me toward the best ways to help you."

"I knew she would. She likes you Martha Jones." He closed his eyes tightly and sighed.

He had calmed down quite a bit, but she could tell he was on the verge of becoming restless again. She reached over to the cart by the bed and got a syringe of medication out of the drawer. He watched her as she swabbed the port in the tubing on the back of his hand.

"What's that?"

"This will help you rest better. It will ease some of your pain. I got it out of your medicine stock. It was labeled for you."

He nodded. "I used to be so organized. Thanks for that."

She injected the medicine in the tubing. "Let me know if you need more."

He nodded and closed his eyes. She held his hand and settled him in, fluffing his pillows and covering him where he had moved the blankets from his body.

"Martha?" he asked in a small weak voice.

"Yes Doctor?"

"Tell me a bedtime story." She tried moving away to find a book to read to him but he had a grip on her fingers, like it was the lifeline that kept him in the moment.

She began, "Once upon a time….."


	25. Miraculous

Chapter 25: Miraculous

_Sorry I haven't updated in months. Been trying to decide an ending. Thanks for all the comments, keep em coming and I'll try to finish this soon._

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Soft, deep breathing rewarded Martha for her efforts. The story she chose to tell him was about the Doctor knight, defeating the dragon and rescuing the princess. Happily ever after. She smiled.

The Doctor slept deeply, his hearts beating steadily now. She curled up in the large soft chair and watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He was still like an infant, requiring lots tender care. The rhythm of his breathing, along with the TARDIS' deep quiet thrumming sang her to sleep.

It was hours later when she woke, stretching and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She sighed and rose from the chair, again stretching her lean frame.

Checking on the Doctor, she noticed the TARDIS' tendril had retracted from underneath the bandages on his neck. She hoped he had not pulled it loose and she looked under the bed to make sure. There was no trace of the tubing anywhere.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, nudging gently. "Doctor, I need to check your neck. I'm going to take this bandage off." He breathed in a deep sigh and nodded only slightly, still half asleep.

She peeled the tape loose that was holding the gauze secure. After peering underneath the gauze, she decided to remove it altogether because there was only a light pink scar where the TARDIS' tubing had been. Looking at the monitors, his hearts beat a steady rhythm without assistance. "It's gone." She lightly touched the scar, feeling only smooth skin without any rough scabs.

"What?" he whispered, looking at her with those big brown eyes of his.

She threw the bandages into the bin beside of his bed and smiled at him. "How do you feel?"

He sighed heavily, giving her a small wince of pain. "Hungry."

She noticed his color had improved greatly and his vital signs were more stable now than they had been. The bag that hung below the bed was beginning to collect more urine, now only slightly pink. This meant his body was able to handle all its own functions now and didn't need the TARDIS help anymore. She couldn't be more pleased.

"Let me check you out first, then I'll get you something to eat.", she smiled at him.

He nodded, "Sounds good."

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He waited patiently as Martha checked the readouts from the monitors, studying each number intently. He still felt tired but more awake. The stark reality of what had happened to him hit him, and his memory was blurry at best. He knew he had been gravely ill, possibly dying and Martha had saved him.

"Martha," He rasped.

"Hmm?", she was still studying the readouts.

"Thank you." His voice a bit stronger that time.

She turned to face him and smiled. He felt warmth radiating from that smile and that made him feel a little better.

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She nodded, placing her stethoscope in her ears. She pulled down the blanket covering his chest and pulled up the loose gown. He had lost weight, his ribs more visible now. He was skinny anyway but now he was plain gaunt. If his stomach could handle food and he was hungry, now was the time to begin to remedy his weight loss problem.

His hearts beat was strong and steady, lungs clear, stomach gurgling. She gently felt his abdomen for tenderness. His liver area was still slightly enlarged and tender when she felt there. She removed the stethoscope and re-fixed his gown.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, amazed at how quickly his body had begun to recover.

"Well, I wouldn't give myself one-hundred percent, but I'll do." He smiled back.

"It'll do for now.", she replied. "Now for some food."


End file.
